


The Secret Of The Storm

by MysteriouslySurreal



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gladiators, F/F, F/M, Gladiator!Eren, Gladiator!Levi, Levi's kinda an asshole in the beginning, M/M, Multi, The Gladiator AU you probably didn't want, but he lightens up, emperor!Erwin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2015-10-01
Packaged: 2018-04-24 06:56:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4909660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MysteriouslySurreal/pseuds/MysteriouslySurreal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em> "For death, when it stands near us, gives even to inexperienced men the courage not to seek to avoid the inevitable. So the gladiator, no matter how faint-hearted he has been throughout the fight, offers his throat to his opponents and directs the wavering blade to the vital spot."</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Plucked from his village at a young age, Eren is forced to train as a gladiator to both entertain the Emperor and earn his freedom. All he has to do is survive five years of matches and he'll be a free man. Simple enough.</p><p>That is, if he can avoid dying in the arena, get better living quarters and survive that time without pissing off Humanity's Strongest gladiator, Ackerman, who has more of a story than he's willing to tell.</p><p>Yeah, should be real simple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Secret Of The Storm

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! (I'm terrible at summaries so thank you if you clicked on this fic. I hope it's better than what I made it sound out to be lol)
> 
> (Ignore the fact I have like fifty other fics I haven't updated in forever)  
> This AU has been stuck in my had for the longest time so I decided to write it. I love Gladiator AU's but the only other ereri one has like two chapters and hasn't updated in ages, so I wrote my own.
> 
> I've tried to make this as historically accurate as possible, but there are a few things exaggerated for the sake of entertainment. Please do tell me if it is not mostly accurate, as feedback is always welcome!  
> (Comments and kudos encouraged, too)
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

_**PROLOGUE:** _

If only Eren had been born into a life of royalty, then he would not be in such a boring and tedious situation like he was now – out collecting fruits and nuts before winter hit. He was sure that this year would be particularly cold and brutal, so he did his best to collect as much as he could each time he went out on a new trip, despite how boring it was.

Eren lived in a small village relatively close to the ocean, a place he and his best friends would often visit when their parents were not watching. It was _their_ place and nobody could take that away from them. His village was beautiful, if he did say so himself. It was filled with markets where you could buy a variety of knick-knacks such as spices, fabrics, jewels and craftwork. Most of these assortments were slightly too expensive for those who lived in a lower class than Eren did, so most of the income in the village was through merchants who passed through more often than not on their way to their destinations. The merchants got on Eren’s nerves, so he generally avoided them when he could, wandering to the outskirts of the village to find some entertainment – and maybe cause a little bit of trouble. The markets where fun to visit when you had money to spare. Eren and his family were not poor _per say_ but they still lived comfortably most of the time due to his father’s work doing various jobs around the village. At the times when his father was away, Eren and his mother relied on the fruits that Eren had collected through his various trips outside of the village. He often wished they could be better off and not have to worry about what they would eat next.

His mother often warned him that if he wandered too far away from the village, someone would take advantage of his youthful innocence and take him away – far, far away. However, those kinds of stories were told when Eren was a mere child; eyes wide with wonder at the world around him. He was much older now – seven years older, in fact, which made him a passionate twelve year old. A worried mother’s warning was the furthest thing from his mind at this point.

The group that arrived today were not merchants, which Eren thought was peculiar. He had never seen anyone dressed so strangely. They wore tunics that varied in shades of white, the length reaching to just above their knees. The tunics were accompanied by blue capes on their backs – well, at least, Eren thought they looked like capes. He had never seen anyone dressed as they were before, so how should he know?  On their feet, they wore boots that were a faded brown colour from the excessive use. These men obviously walked a fair distance quite often. The men were headed on their way to the markets further inland and being the curious boy he was, Eren decided to follow them.

Once they reach the town centre, the men went their separate ways to look at the assortments of goods that each stall had to offer. They all looked like they could buy everything their eyes landed on here without flinching, so it may not take a long time for them to make their purchases.

A small shimmer caught Eren’s eye on one of the stalls. Eren moved to the stall and on closer look, it appeared to be a jewel - turquoise in colour and sparkled in the sunlight every time it caught a faucet. It was beautiful; certainly would be worth a lot of money. It could feed his family for a long time if he traded it for money.

Eren was struck with an idea. He was sure he could do it. It had to be simple. Do not attract any attention to yourself, put it in your pocket and walk away.

Simple, right?

He had to move quickly, as the man running the market stall was watching people very wearily. One of the strangely dressed men from earlier made his way to the turquoise jewel and began speaking with the old man. They spoke idly about the jewel, its price and what it would be used for.

_That is one expensive jewel. I guess it would be, for the Emperor, after all._

Both men seemed distracted for the moment, so Eren made his move, small hand reaching for the jewel and grabbing a hold of it quickly. He slipped it into his pocket without falter and walked away calmly. They did not suspect a thing.

Eren made it to about half way up the road before a loud voice rang through the town centre.

“Hey! Stop! Thief! He stole the Emperor’s jewel! Seize him!”

That was Eren’s cue to run. Immediately. He ran as fast as his still stubby legs would carry him. He dodged trees, other children and even mothers hanging up their laundry, who watched him with distain on their faces. For a while, it seemed that Eren had outrun the men, but upon turning around, he found out that he could not have been more wrong. They grabbed hold of him, ensuring he could not run anywhere. Eren fought and kicked like his life depended on it; which it did. Stealing was punishable by death. It was no use, however; Eren had been caught. One of the men reached inside of Eren’s pant pocket to retrieve the jewel. Despite the rough treatment Eren received, the jewel was still in pristine condition.

The old man from the market stall soon caught up to the group, puffing and wheezing as he went. Fat Bastard. Once he reached Eren, he began the verbal abuse – cussing him out, promising that he would be the one to end Eren’s life. Eren was still in the vice-like grip of the strange men, a traitorous tear now falling down his face. He only wanted to provide his family with a better life and this was the outcome?

One of the strange men who was not currently holding Eren stepped closer to the young boy. Eren’s eyes widened out of fear and the strange man hummed in thought. He turned to the rest of the group, speaking up with a scratchy voice.

“Perhaps death would not suite him very nicely; at least, for now. Look at his eyes. Do they not remind you of the jewel you are currently holding?”

The other men took a good look at Eren, who in turn blushed slightly. He was not used to such penetrating gazes. He felt the men’s grip loosen slightly, so he took his chance and wriggled, biting and scratching as he went. He slipped out of the man’s grasp, but was quickly caught by another.

“Shit! Feisty little thing, hmm?” One of the men growled, nursing the arm that Eren had taken a chunk out of. Eren felt slightly smug at that. “Perhaps this will calm you down.” One of the other men came up behind Eren, striking him across the back of the head – not hard enough to kill him, but just enough to knock him out to avoid future problems. Eren slumped back into the arms of his captor, eyes fluttering shut with eyelashes tickling his cheek. He was out like a light.

“As I was about to say before we were interrupted, his eyes do indeed remind me of the jewel. Perhaps the Emperor would take a liking to this one, especially since he is so feisty. He had be right at home in the arena.”

“Indeed.” Another man agreed.

The old man from the market watched the action unfold with a jaw slightly dropped. After Eren had been knocked out, the old man began to speak, offering to take him back to the village to have him executed – but the strange men cut him off.

“No need for that. We shall take him to a place where he will be right at home. You do not need to worry about him anymore. We are taking him far, far away.”

The old man began to protest, but the argument died in his throat. These strange, rich men would take away the brat? Was that not kidnapping?

“We shall even pay you for him.”

That sounded pretty good to the old man. Kidnapping or not, he had mouths to feed and he will be damned if the extra money would not help him out. He accepted the money eagerly and went on his merry way.

The strange men collected Eren, one throwing him over their shoulder as they walked back to the docks. The trip would only take a few days or so. Wait until the Emperor sees the boy with eyes more enchanting than all of the jewels in his kingdom.

* * *

 

Eren awoke a few hours later, head still throbbing from where the strange man struck him.

“W-where am I?” He asked, groggily.

“On a boat.” A hard voice sighed, clearly annoyed at Eren’s stupid question.

“Huh?”

“You are on a boat, heading to Rome.” The voice informed him.

“Rome?!” Eren sat up in his holding cell, eyes widening and jaw dropping slightly.

“Yes, Rome; as in the Colosseum and the Emperor, Rome.”

This voice clearly wanted Eren to stop talking. It was an older, manlier voice. Perhaps he was a prisoner? A thief like Eren? A murderer?

“How the Hell did I manage to get so far away from home?”

“How should I know?” The voice was dripping with sarcasm at this point.

“Well I figured--”

“You figured wrong.” The voice cut him off.

Eren felt a wave of anger overcome him. “Do not speak to me like that. I only asked a question.”

“Yes, and running your mouth around here will guarantee you a beating from one of the guards.”

Eren narrowed his eyes scathingly. Guards, huh?  “I would like to see them try.”

“I would like to see them beat the shit out of you. It will certainly add some entertainment to my life.”

“Fuck you.” Eren spat.

“Such foul words coming from a child. I have a wife at home, kid. I do not need anything from someone like you.”

Then the voice was gone. Eren tried to get it to come back but it never did. Perhaps Eren imagined the whole thing. Hallucinating _was_ a common sign of a concussion, was it not?

Perhaps Eren needed more sleep.

* * *

 

**A FEW DAYS LATER:**

“Hey, kid.” A gruff voice called.

Eren looked up at the guard on the opposite side of his holding cell with an immense amount of distain and hatred upon his face.

“What?” He spat out, eyes never leaving the guard’s. He had a bone to pick with this guy.

“It is your lucky day, Sunshine.” The guard chuckled, reaching through the bars to stroke Eren’s mussed up and - quite frankly – filthy hair. Eren recoiled from the calloused hand and bit back a growl out of fear that the guard might give him another concussion and knock him out.

“Why is that?”

“Lady Luck is in your corner. You have just been signed up for school.” Eren said nothing. School? As in knowledge school? “They will come down in a few hours to collect you,” The guard broke him out of his thoughts. “Do not worry too much, though. I am sure they will take pity on someone with eyes as pretty as the Emperor’s finest jewels. I know I would.” He breathed, earning a disgusted shudder from the young boy.

The guard left without another word, leaving Eren to his thoughts.

_Why am I in Rome? Why am I going to school? How long have I been travelling for? Am I going to die?_

* * *

 

As Eren soon found out, he was not enrolled in a school for knowledge. He was signed up for a gladiator school. For gladiators. To go out and fight in the arena.

Just his luck.

He had met a few interesting people at the school, most of which were in the same predicament as he was. A girl named Sasha Braus was placed at the school for stealing food from one of the houses back in her village. She was a slightly lanky girl, with barely any muscle on her. She looked like she was on the verge of starvation. Another named Connie Springer was here due to being framed for a crime he did not commit – something he swears was not his fault and he was at the wrong place at the wrong time. He had a buzz cut, something Eren had never seen before and was extremely short, reaching Eren’s chin. Hopefully he would grow.

Eren also found that there were people who signed up for the school willingly. People like Reiner Braun, who was built quite solidly, even though he was only fourteen and Bertholdt Fubar, who was tall, even by Eren’s standards. He had a problem with sweating. Fubar had told Eren that he was not from Rome, but from a town where it would never be this hot. That explained the sweating. They had excitedly told Eren that they would be the best gladiators that Rome had ever seen. Eren held back a snarky comment at that.

A short, blonde girl by the name of Historia Reiss told Eren that she had joined to dispel the idea that only men could participate in the arena. She believed that women were just as capable as men. Historia was accompanied by a tall, lanky girl who refused to give out her name, informing Eren to ‘just call her Ymir.’ Ymir was always with Historia wherever she went like her personal bodyguard. Like a jealous lover, Eren would sarcastically think, but never say out of fear that Ymir might punch his lights out.

Mikasa Ackerman, a young girl whom Eren had no idea of her ethnicity and had beautiful black hair down to her hips introduced herself quietly to Eren. She explained that she was here to follow in her mother’s footsteps and become a great Gladiatrix, just like her mother was. Eren smiled and asked about Mikasa’s mother. She informed him that her mother died in battle.

Then there was Jean Kirschtein.

He really got under Eren’s skin; always going on about how he would become the Emperor’s favourite and only get to fight at really special events, drawing in enormous crowds like it was nothing. Eren did not really like him. He had a hot head and would always seek out a heated argument, especially with Eren.

Eren’s mother always used to say that the people we disliked were the most like ourselves. Eren called bullshit.

* * *

 

**THREE YEARS LATER:**

Eren was not the top of his class, per say, but he was certainly better than others. He was average. Not too good and not too bad.

After three years of extensive training, Eren finally embraced that this had become his life, so he better enjoy it if he wanted to win his freedom after five years of officially fighting. Would Eren make it that far? Who knew, but it was better than rotting in a cell for the rest of his life.

As a matter of fact, Eren had become quite cheeky over the years – never losing his fiery streak.  He still had boundaries, though. Just slightly.

“Let us sneak out to watch a gladiator fight!”

“What? No! We could get caught.” Eren stared wide-eyed at Braus, who was munching on some bread she had hidden earlier. She had a habit of eating what she could, since she had almost starved to death all of those years ago.

“That is the point. Do you not like a little thrill, Jaeger?”

“Screw you, Kirschtein. I just do not want to get a beating like you got last week because of your big mouth.” Eren hissed at his school-mate.

“Fuck you!”

“Boys! Cut it out. You are leaking testosterone all over the floor.” Mikasa piped up, a scowl on her face. Mikasa had become a mother of sorts for the young teenagers, often providing guidance or bringing hot-headed boys back down to Earth.

Jean blushed.

“S-sorry Mikasa! He started it, though.”

“I do not care.” Mikasa folded her arms, a clear sign she was not impressed.

Springer piped up from the back. “So are we seeing a gladiator fight or not?”

“I am in.” Reiner called.

“Me too.” Bertholdt agreed.

Marco raised his hand. “And me!”

“I will too if she goes.” Ymir looked down at Historia.

“I am up for it!” Historia had a smile that Eren could have mistaken for a sunbeam.

“Then it is decided. We leave when everyone is eating their lunch.”

“Agreed.” Everyone cheered.

_What have we just gotten ourselves into?_

* * *

 

True to their word, everyone met up when the guards had left to eat their lunch. They all moved under the cover of shade and stealth – as much stealth as a bunch of early teenagers could muster, anyway.

Once they arrived at the arena, they all took their spots where they would not cause too much attention and be found out by a stray guard who decided to catch the gladiator action. The crowd suddenly roared, indicating that the gladiators had entered the arena. Eren peered over the edge of the wall to watch.

A man, surely no taller than Eren stepped out of the side of the arena. The first thing Eren noticed about him was his skin – which could only be described as alabaster. It reminded Eren of the porcelain dolls on display at his village’s markets. The colour was a far cry from what Eren was used to, hailing from a place where everyone was tanned due to the many hours spent in the sun. The man was dressed in armour that protected his lower half – however, his upper half? Not so much. The only armour on his top half was situated on his arms to protect them from the sharp blades. A helmet was situated on the man’s head, so Eren could not see his face to decipher his age. Judging by how toned the gladiator was in his arms, legs and chest, Eren guessed he could not have been much older than himself – perhaps his late twenties at the oldest, and was very fit. His exposed skin held scars, clearly visible to Eren even though he sat quite a distance from the man. Thin white scars littered his body – particularly his chest and neck. The man was clearly no novice to the sport.

Another man entered from the other side of the arena, slightly wispier and tanned than his counterpart. He too was wearing armour and a helmet. His body held scars, but not near enough as much as his opponent’s. Either he was slightly newer to the battles, or he was quite lucky not to be struck often enough by various weapons.

Both men stood in their respective areas until instructed to begin. The crowd chatted among themselves, betting who would be the victor and who would be the one seriously injured – even killed.

“Watch closely, kid. That right there is Ackerman. Humanity’s Strongest, you see? That will be you soon enough - assuming you make it that far.” A hushed voice laughed in Eren’s ear.

Assuming indeed.

“Which one is Ackerman?” Eren asked lamely. It should have been obvious.

The man shot him a look as to say “are you serious?”

_Yes, I am incredibly serious._

“The short one who looks like he has been in on too many fights than anyone sane should ever be in.”

Eren nodded. He could agree with that description.

The fight began and Eren was transfixed by the way the alabaster-skinned gladiator moved. Eren could only describe it as a skilled hunter stalking its prey – watching closely and figuring out weak points. The wispy, tanned gladiator too moved with grace and precision despite the brutality of his actions, but he was no match for his counterpart.

The fight ended with the smaller gladiator’s opponent being seriously maimed. He lay on the ground, blood seeping to the surface of his skin and falling onto the rough ground beneath him.  

The alabaster-skinned gladiator removed his helmet in an act of triumph, revealing a mess of raven-black hair that was an extreme contrast to his skin tone. The hair was jagged, like he had tried to cut it himself – and was significantly shorter in the back than in the front with a few strands falling into his eyes. He wiped them away with the back of his hand and looked down to his wounded opponent with a gleam in his eye.

The crowd suddenly grew silent. It was time for the verdict from the Emperor. All eyes turned to the blond man, waiting for the infamous ‘thumbs up’ or ‘thumbs down’.

The Emperor was known to be a fair man, more often or not letting the losing opponent live. However, something was different today – something off in the way his ice blue eyes sparkled.

His hand raised high enough for all to see – thumb pointed down. This was the poor brunet’s end. It was time for him to perish at the hands of Ackerman, the small raven-haired male who held a wicked smile upon his face. Ackerman’s blade moved towards his opponent’s neck, the tip at his jugular. The opponent’s eyes begged for mercy – but Ackerman knew no mercy.

This was a wake-up call for Eren. It was then that he realised that what he was training for was very real, very dangerous and very frightening. Eren turned his head. He could not watch this – he refused to. Taking joy in taking someone’s life? What kind of a sick mind does such a thing?

The sound of the opponent’s gurgled scream made Eren cover his ears and his breathing to increase erratically. He felt like a scared little child again. Was this what his end would look like? Would he too, die at the hands of a savage gladiator, who took great enjoyment at watching the lights fade from their opponent’s eyes? Would he too die in such a humiliating way?

He rather hoped not.

Ackerman left a moment later, after the young man had finally taken his last dying breath. He did not look back. The raven-haired man was then greeted at the gate by a rather excited – and quite frankly, odd – individual. Eren was sure there was a story there, but he let it slide from his mind for now. His thoughts turned back to the wispy gladiator who was still lying awkwardly in the middle of the arena.

Nobody had run out to collect the body of the young man. No one had the decency to mourn his death. It was only mere entertainment to them. Such a young, promising man whose life was cut short by greed and a desire to entertain his Emperor.

_**END OF PROLOGUE** _

* * *

 

**FIVE YEARS LATER: AFTER GRADUATION**

“Jaeger.” One of the commanding officers of the school called.

“Sir.”

“Your first match has been decided. I'm sure you will like your partner very much, I know I would. You are to fight alongside Ackerman tomorrow.”

_Say that again?_

“Pardon, sir? Did you say ‘alongside Ackerman’?”

Eren received a nod in answer.

“May I ask – and not speaking out of turn – but why?” Ackerman was Humanity’s Strongest. He had seen Ackerman take that other gladiator’s life without batting an eye all those years ago. He was ruthless – it honestly scared Eren. Just a little.

“Despite having a reputation of a ‘Suicidal Bastard’, fighting alongside Ackerman is the best way for you to not perish prematurely. It seems you have quite a fan club going on, yet you have not even been out in the arena yet. They would be deeply saddened if you got your throat slit or your chest cavity pierced.”

Eren’s lip curled in an act of sarcasm.

I would too, to be honest.

“Do I get to speak with Ackerman beforehand? To, you know, confer and whatnot?” Maybe to get to know him before I fucking die?

“Absolutely not. He is far too busy to deal with the likes of you. The only reason that you are even going to be within ten feet of him is because someone pulled some strings behind the scene – and do not ask me who it is because I do not know.”

“Noted. So I will only see him tomorrow whilst in battle?”

“Indeed.” The officer nodded.

“Understood.”

“Sleep well, Jaeger. Who knows what tomorrow holds in store?” The officer asked.

“Hopefully my survival.” Eren bit under his breath.

The man left without another word, probably to go scoff his face with all the luxuries that being a commanding officer offered him. Disgusting.

Eren had to tell his friends – what was he supposed to do? Could they offer him some advice?

“Hey,” Eren caught up with the group, who were busy sparring in the practice arena. “You will never guess who my first battle is with.”

“Kirschtein.” Someone whispered, hidden from view.

“What? No! He would die within the first five seconds.” Eren had to laugh at that.

A soft “fuck you, Jaeger!” sounded from the back.

“Who?” Mikasa asked, stepping forward to be in Eren’s line of sight.

“Ackerman.”

Everyone stood there and stared intently at Eren. “You are lying.” Someone spoke up.

“I am not! My match is tomorrow. You can come watch if you want.”

Jean started laughing, clearly amused at the situation. “I am not sure you could call it a battle. It would be more like you crying in a corner and Ackerman saving your sorry ass.”

Anger pulsed through Eren. “Will not!”

“Calm down, boys,” Mikasa chastised. “Eren, if you are telling the truth, I wish you luck. I am sure you will do great.”

Eren smiled at the girl. “Thank you, Mikasa.”

“Any time. Now come on, everyone. We better head in before we get in trouble again. Everyone in bed within the next half hour.” Everyone dispersed after that.

Eren moved back to his quarters, laying in his bed and letting out a frustrated growl at the situation. The excitement had worn off, now he was only left with apprehension and doubt.

What was Eren to do? He had never even met Ackerman and now he had be in the arena fighting alongside him – and hopefully not dying in the process. It was all so frustrating! Eren had never even picked up a blade in his life! They only used wooden swords when they practiced! What made them think he had be able to wield such a weapon? Even more, seriously maim someone with it? He hadn’t even chosen to be a gladiator in the first place! He was quite literally snatched from his home and thrust into a life of murder and entertainment when he was merely twelve years old! Eren came from a life of apples and wheat, not swords, guts and strangely intriguing, yet intimidating small gladiato— Eren shut that thought off as quickly as he could. No good would come from thinking like that.

It was all too much. He seriously needed some rest if he even had a smidgen of hope to make it ten seconds in that arena tomorrow. Maybe twenty if his opponents stubbed their toe or something.

* * *

 

Eren woke up the next morning with the worst sense of dread he had ever experienced in his life. Today was the day he would go out into the arena in front of thousands, blade in hand and accompanied by none other than Ackerman, Humanity’s Strongest.

Great.

Normally he would have cleaned himself by now, but it seems that ‘criminals’ did not get the privilege. Eren was living in the slums that tried to disguise itself as a sleeping quarters.

Nice try.

The guard that Eren had the unfortunate chance of meeting a few years ago suddenly made an appearance, startling Eren, who was currently in the midst of making his bed.

“Rise and shine, Sunshine. Today is your big day. I have not seen you in years. My, you have grown into a pretty little thing.”

Eren grunted in response.

“I hear there is an even bigger crowd than usual – something about wanting to see the young man with jewels for eyes.”

Eren grunted again. Maybe if he just grunted in response, the guard would leave him the fuck alone.

He suddenly felt warmth along his back, curving from his shoulders all the way down to his buttocks. “You know, Sunshine,” the guard whispered into Eren’s ear. “It is very rude to ignore a higher-up, especially if he is giving you one-on-one attention.”

Eren suppressed a shiver. If he did not react, then the guard would leave him alone.

“Nothing, huh?” The guard asked. “Suite yourself. I will see you in the arena then.” The guard left with nothing more than a chuckle and a light caress of Eren’s hair.

_Disgusting pig._

Horny guards were the last of Eren’s worries, however. In a few hours, he could either live or die – depending on his luck – and we all know how good Eren’s luck is.

Do we not?

* * *

 

Eren was walked to the arena by a very large and intimidating man. It was decided that Eren would not make a sound out of pure fear that this man would end his life with a flick of his wrist. However, he was sure that would be a less painful death than what was waiting inside the arena for him. Perhaps he should provoke the burly man. He glanced up at the man, who was wearing a scowl that look like it could make a child shrivel up on the very spot they stood.

Perhaps not.

They stopped at the entrance and Eren let out a breath that he did not know he was holding. The burly man nodded in acknowledgement, signalling that Eren should enter the building. He walked, unsure of exactly where to go. He asked a young woman if she knew where to go.

“Oh honey,” the lady chuckled, brushing her brown hair out of her face. “I wish you luck. It is over there.” She pointed to a long passageway that did not look to safe, in Eren’s opinion. He thanked her and made his way down to the holding cell.

“There you are! I was beginning to think you died of fright.” One of the men in charge laughed.

_I might have, given that I’ve never fought in an actual battle before. Whose smart idea was this again? Oh, right. The Emperors._

* * *

 

Eren stood for what seemed the longest time. His legs were falling asleep and he began to feel really thirsty.

A figure, reaching only to about Eren’s chin suddenly appeared next to him. He stumbled back slightly, only to realise the figure standing next to him was none other than Ackerman. _The_ Ackerman. Eren’s heart rate might have increased slightly. He made a move to introduce himself.

“Um… hi… I am Eren Jaeg--”

“I did not ask for your name, did I?” The man snapped.

Eren was taken aback. So he was another one of _those_ guys, was he? Good to know.  “Well you are getting it anyway. Consider yourself lucky.”

The small man chuckled. “Oh? So the little fish has got bite then?”

“I am not little.” Eren defended.

“Could have fooled me. You barely look old enough to talk, let alone wield a weapon.”

Eren shot a dirty look at the man. “It is not like I had the choice to be here.”

Ackerman hummed in agreement. “You have got me there. I had forgotten that not everyone chose this life.”

Eren was deeply confused – and a little concerned for the man’s mental wellbeing. “You chose to do this?”

The man simply nodded.

“Why?”

“I am not telling you my life story, kid. I barely even know your name, let alone you as a person.”

Eren felt his stomach burn with flecks of anger. “Well, I attempted to tell you my name, but you cut me off.”

The man tilted his head, a small smile on his face. “So I did.”

“Which I thought was very ru--”

“Shut your mouth, kid. I am not in the mood for chastising.” The man moved his neck to the right, cracking the vertebrae with a loud _pop._

“Wha--! You just!” Eren sputtered, eyes watching as he saw the gate opening, screeching as it rose higher and higher above their heads.

 “Let us get this over and done with.” Ackerman muttered, more to himself than anyone else as the gates stopped at a standstill. He walked out with a proud posture and without a single etch of worry or fear on his face.

Perhaps Eren could take a page out of Ackerman’s book. He walked behind the shorter man and into the arena. The crowd was cheering, happy to see their favourite gladiator in action. This only happened five or six times a year. Eren should feel honoured.

The sun shone into Eren’s eyes and suddenly he felt no fear. He could do this.

* * *

 

The fight began and the crowd roared, encouraging their favourite gladiator – Eren mostly heard Ackerman’s name being called but if he listened carefully, he could hear the occasional and quiet ‘the one with jewels for eyes’ It made him a little smug, yes. First fight out and he already had people cheering him on.

Ackerman was in amongst the action, blade being thrown around with such precision that Eren let out a low whistle. He was impressed.

Unbeknownst to him, one of the opponents had snuck up behind Eren – blade ready to slice. Eren became aware at the very last second and ducked, narrowly avoiding decapitation. The opponent tried to strike again, but Ackerman was suddenly in between Eren and his attacker, blade held horizontally to stop the other weapon’s blow.

“What the fuck are you doing?! Fight!”

Eren stared at him with wide eyed fear, glued to the very spot where he stood.

“Are deaf or something?! Move! Fight before you get your head cut off!”

He could not move. His body would not allow it. This was the end.

“For fuck sake!” Ackerman screamed at him, pushing him out of the way of the other oncoming attacker, who until now had been very stealthy in his attack. Eren fell to the floor, grazing his knees in the process. Ackerman was still on his feet, blade connecting with his opponent’s. The loud smashing of metal against metal was all Eren could hear. Not even the roaring crowd was heard. Ackerman quickly over powered the opponent, blade flinging the other to the far right. The opponent fell to his knees.

Ackerman moved over to Eren, a deadly scowl etched onto his features. “What in the ever loving fuck did you think you were doing? Do not you know how to fight? What idiot just stands there in the middle of battle?”

Eren, apparently.

“I apologise. You see, I’ve never fought in my fucking life.”

Ackerman’s eyebrows raised minutely, surprised at the amount of sarcasm dripping from the turquoise-eyed male’s tongue.

“I can do without the smart-assed comment, you little shit. If what you say is true, then what are you doing here, in the middle of this battle, with a blade in your hand, with me?” Ackerman hissed.

“Planting flowers – what the fuck do you think I am doing?”

Ackerman rolled his eyes at the feisty kid.

_Seems like this kid is full of it, isn’t he?_

“Barely surviving it seems.” Ackerman quipped.

“Thank you for your observation.”

“No problem, kid. Just try to survive the rest of the battle – it’d be a shame to see such a kind and gentle soul go to waste.” The smirk on Ackerman’s face could better be described as a wry smile.

Eren suppressed a growl at that.

“Same goes for you.”

“I’ve been in this game a long time, kid. Kind and gentle aren’t normally used in a sentence with my name.”

“How unfortunate for y—Watch out!” Eren gasped, eyes suddenly not focused on Ackerman.

Ackerman turned as the opponent’s blade came down, resulting in the tip grazing Ackerman’s face in a thin line. Blood immediately sprung to the surface. “Shit!”

Eren panicked. What was he supposed to do in the middle of the arena with thousands of people watching, plus the Emperor himself? He swung his blade low, connecting with the opponent’s shin. The man let out a hiss as he stepped back, which provided Ackerman with the perfect shot. He did the same as Eren, swinging his blade in the same fashion, this time on the other shin – the opponent fell to the floor, unable to move immediately.

Ackerman turned to Eren. “What the fuck was that? Did not they teach you any self-preservation skills in that school of yours? Who just stands there in the middle of battle like they have frozen in the middle of winter?”

Eren looked at his feet. To say he was embarrassed was an understatement. He had made a fool of himself in front of so many and had to be saved by Ackerman. As much as he hated to say it, Kirschtein was right.

Ackerman sighed, extending a hand towards Eren. Eren took it without hesitation, perhaps he was it not such a failure in Ackerman’s eyes. Once Eren had a firm grip of Ackerman’s hand, the shorter man’s demeanour changed. He flung the poor turquoise-eyed boy to the floor and onto his back. Ackerman moved to stand over the young man, blade brushing Eren’s jugular. If Eren swallowed, chances are he would be stabbed. His eyes widened; he was legitimately afraid for his life.

“Do not embarrass me like that again.” Ackerman whispered, eyes never wavering from Eren’s. The crowd fell silent. No one knew what to say. Had Ackerman turned on his own battle partner? Would he end the poor boy’s life? Everything was still.

A lone clap sounded throughout the arena. Everyone looked around to see who it was; it was the Emperor. Everyone looked around at one another. What was he doing? Are we to clap too?

“Bravo!” The Emperor called to the two men in the arena. “You two put on quite a show!”

The crowd murmured to one another. Yes, they had. It was certainly very entertaining to watch. Who knew Ackerman had a dramatic flair?

“Levi!” The blonde man called. No one else but the Emperor was to call Ackerman, Levi. Levi was far too personal to anyone else, but being the Emperor granted him permission to use his first name. Ackerman was the Emperor’s favourite jewel, after all. “Who is your beautiful-eyed friend? I have never seen anyone with eyes like that.”

Ackerman shrugged, indicating he did not know; bullshit he did not. Eren had introduced himself earlier. He was lying to the Emperor.

“I see,” The Emperor hummed. He turned to Eren. “What is your name?”

“Jaeger, your Highness. Eren Jaeger.” Eren bowed.

“Eren, hmm? Well, Eren. Things are looking up for you. Welcome to being a gladiator.”

Despite the situation, Eren had to smile. Perhaps things _were_ looking up. That is, if he did not die before he won his freedom or, - if looking at the small man next to him who was currently shooting him a glare that would make the strongest of men cower – Ackerman did not get to him first.

Eren was sure he would not survive that.


End file.
